


A Lie Down

by Haberdasher



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Caring, During Canon, Episode: e132 Entombed (The Magnus Archives), Exhaustion, Gen, Insomnia, POV Jonathan Sims, Post-Episode: e132 Entombed (The Magnus Archives), Sleepiness, Spoilers for Episode: e132 Entombed (The Magnus Archives), Tired Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:33:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23188552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haberdasher/pseuds/Haberdasher
Summary: Shortly after Jon brings Daisy out of the coffin, Jon and Basira have a chat.
Relationships: Basira Hussain & Jonathan Sims
Comments: 6
Kudos: 103





	A Lie Down

Jon was exhausted. He hadn’t exactly been well-rested before entering the Buried, and he’d been awake the whole time he was down there, not out of choice but out of necessity. Sleep wasn’t possible in the Buried, no more than death would be, because that would be an escape, and the Buried didn’t allow for escape; anyone who entered would be trapped there forever, without even the meager and fleeting escape that dreams would provide, alone and entombed and terrified forever.

Except for Jon and Daisy, now. They’d escaped the Buried, emerged from its depths hand in hand. Jon was pretty sure that was a first, there, though he didn’t know how he knew that, and was trying very hard not to think too hard about that fact.

Apparently it’d been three days since he entered the coffin here, above, in the outside world. Jon couldn’t say for sure whether it’d been longer or shorter or the same amount of time down there. Time was difficult to pin down when there were no outside cues to use for guidance--no clocks, no shift in the light as day and night traded places, nothing but yourself and the earth around you...

Maybe he should have brought along a wristwatch, just to see how time worked down there. Opportunity missed, he supposed. He certainly wasn’t going to head back into the coffin just to learn that much.

Jon was tired of discussing what had just happened, tired of Basira clearly thinking that he was an idiot even though he’d done exactly what he’d set out to do by entering the coffin, tired of Daisy’s weary and uncertain eyes constantly following whoever was speaking, tired of Melanie’s continued vitriol directed towards him (Slaughter or no Slaughter, apparently), and so he unceremoniously left the ongoing conversation and headed elsewhere, where the only judgmental thoughts he had to face were his own.

He was only a few feet away from his office door when he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder. Jon could tell who it was well enough without looking, but he still looked, still turned his head and let his eyes meet Basira’s.

“Yes?” Jon’s voice was perhaps a bit curt, a bit annoyed, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel bad about it; he thought he’d been clear enough that his part in the conversation was over, and he hadn’t left just to start a new one in turn.

“Where are you going?”

Jon looked at Basira. Jon looked, pointedly, at his office door just a few feet away, clearly in the direction he had been heading before this interruption. Jon looked back at Basira.

Basira’s poker face remained unchanged, so Jon answered in words as well as in gestures, in case he hadn’t adequately conveyed his point already.

“To my office. Why?”

“Wouldn’t have thought you’d be up for more work after all that.”

Jon sighed and pressed one hand against the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t sure if the resulting grimy feeling was from his hand or his nose or both, but it wasn’t pleasant. “I’m not-”

“And in the state you’re in right now, you’d probably just get dirt on everything, and whatever work you do wouldn’t be worth all the clean-up.”

Jon took a deep breath and gave Basira a terse nod. “You’re- you’re right, I should take a shower first, and then get some sleep.”

“You do still need sleep, then?” Jon couldn’t quite read the look in Basira’s eyes there. Curiosity? Amusement? Suspicion?

“I think so. I... I still get _tired_ , anyway. Haven’t really tested pushing it too far, admittedly, at least not any more than usual.” Jon tried to bark out a laugh at the end there, but fell a bit short of the mark.

It was true enough, though, that Jon’s _usual_ sleeping habits--before the coma, before... before everything--were erratic at best, with long nights spent burning the midnight oil, constantly pushing himself to do a little more work, just one more bit of research, and then suddenly it was three in the morning and Jon was still in his office at the Institute and a good night’s rest was well and truly out of the question. That hadn’t changed as of late, but he highly doubted that any resultant lack of sleep could be attributed to his current humanity or lack thereof.

“You don’t have a cot of your own in here, though.” A statement, not a question. “Melanie told me you used mine when I was gone and you needed to lie down.”

When had he-

Oh.

Jon tried not to wince with phantom pain as he recalled exactly when it was he had used Basira’s empty cot, after having two ribs removed of his own volition. It was better than the alternative of being stuck in the Buried forever, sure, but it had still hurt like hell just the same.

Jon wondered if Melanie had filled in Basira on those details regarding why he’d needed to lie down right then and there.

Jon wondered if he’d left the cot in decent condition. There hadn’t been any blood, he didn’t think; even though normally removing a body part like that would leave all sorts of gore and wounds behind, what Jared had done to extract his ribs had been a long way from normal. Jon wasn’t _positive_ that there had been no blood, though. Everything in between hearing Jared’s statement and standing just outside the coffin, leaving a recording for others in case he never returned, was a bit of a blur. At the very least, he probably hadn’t put much effort into tidying up after himself once he was done using Basira’s cot.

“I didn’t leave it in too bad a shape, did I?”

Basira blinked, clearly confused, before responding. “No, I hadn’t even noticed until she told me. But I know you couldn’t have done that when I was still here, so... what, have you got your own place?”

Jon let out a dark laugh. “After defaulting on one lease because I was in a coma for six months and on another because I was wanted for murder at the time, when half the world seems to want me dead? No, Basira, I don’t have my own place.”

Basira’s lips pursed into a slight frown. “Then... where have you been sleeping?”

“In my office.”

Jon hadn’t realized how bad that sounded until he saw the look on Basira’s face when he said it.

“Seriously?”

“It’s not that bad, really! Just got to bundle up a bit, clear files out of the way, move some things around to get comfortable...”

“Honestly, that’s just sad.”

Jon snorted softly. “Thanks, Basira. Just what I needed to hear right now.”

“Look. Spooky monster or no, we don’t need you getting back problems from sleeping on a bare floor for months on end.”

Jon opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again when he realized he had no idea what he was going to say.

“Here’s what we’ll do. You’re getting your own cot. We can figure out the money bit later--it can come straight out of Lukas’ personal coffers for all I care. Until it arrives, we can switch off using my cot. You can have it tonight; think you need it more than I do at the moment.”

Jon hesitated for a long moment before responding, wrapping his head around Basira’s plan to resolve something that he hadn’t even considered to be a problem, though in hindsight, her assessment of it as such did make sense. “Are you sure?”

Basira didn’t hesitate, didn’t so much as blink an eye. “Yes.”

“I... thank you, Basira. That means a lot.”

Basira held up a single finger. “One condition, though.”

Inwardly, Jon groaned. Of course there was a catch. Everything came with a catch now, didn’t it?

Outwardly, Jon tried to keep a weak smile on his face. “Yes?”

“Take that damn shower before you use my cot tonight. Last thing I need is that filth-” Basira made a sweeping hand gesture that Jon was sure was intended to point out all the dirt and mud and grime still clinging to him from the Buried, but that Jon couldn’t help but feel was directed towards him in general. “-all over my cot.”

Jon let out a gentle laugh of relief. If that was the only catch here, he was getting off easy.

“Sure, sure. And thanks again.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Basira walked away without another word, and Jon felt a smile growing on his face as he imagined what lay ahead for him--a nice long shower, getting to sleep on something more comfortable than the bare tile of his office floor, hopefully waking up clean and well-rested for the first time in... well. In a while, anyway.

A small blessing, to be sure, but one Jon intended to cherish just the same.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, consider following me on tumblr at [haberdashing](https://haberdashing.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
